Moving On
by Rheza
Summary: *OMG, is that another chapter?! After a month of silence? Chapter 14, kidlets. Woooooooo Weee!!!! * Vaughn has played Sydney's lapdog for far too long. But apparently, life goes on... but feelings don't necessarily change.
1. Don't

Title: Don't  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: Haven't gotten the beta-ed version back yet. . . so all mistakes are mine to brood over. Feel free to point stuff out.  
  
  
  
He sat inconspicuously in the last booth of a small, homey café. His eyebrows were knit together; his green eyes clouded over to a mere a shadow of their usual bright color. To anyone who had even noticed him, he was the epitome of concentration.  
  
In reality, he was stewing in his own jealousy and confusion, two elements that when thrown together as haphazardly as they had been for him in the last six months or so, unfailingly brought out the worst in people.  
  
Two nights ago, he had met her at the warehouse. Two nights ago, she had cried to him over yet another lost love. Two nights ago he has held her close as sobs ravaged her body. Two nights ago she had buried her head in the crook of his neck, clutching him, melting into him and making him melt for her.  
  
Two nights ago, he had snapped.  
  
He had certainly never meant to lash out at her the way he had, but his heart had suddenly grew tired of playing second string, dropping everything for her at the sound of her broken voice and tears.  
  
"Don't I deserve more than that?" he had asked her. "Can you possibly be so blind to the fact that I care a lot more for you than an average handler would?" She had remained silent as she backed away from him step by step, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks yet again. His heart had clenched when he realized that this time, it was him who had caused the pain.  
  
"Syd, I - Don't cry."  
  
"I'm sorry, Vaughn," she had whispered when she finally reached the opposite side of the room, her fingers locking desperately to the chain- link fence behind her for support.  
  
He had simply shook his head: "Don't. Don't apologize unless you really mean it." He turned away from her then, busying himself with packing up his briefcase, a futile attempt at hiding his misty eyes.  
  
Almost all the papers that had been spread out on the table concerning her counter-mission had been shoved into his briefcase before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Vaughn. I'm so sorry." Before he could respond, she was gone in a whirlwind of brown hair and the hurried clicking of heels.  
  
She had walked away from him, breaking his already bleeding heart.  
  
He shook his head, breaking out of his reverie, suddenly returned to his booth in the café. "I'm sorry, too," he whispered, earning him curious look from the waitress waiting to take his order.  
  
He smiled weakly at her, softly ordering, "Coffee. Black."  
  
The waitress raised an eyebrow at him before nodding her head. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear before turning and walking away.  
  
Brown hair.  
  
//Like Sydney's.//  
  
Frustrated, he shook himself mentally and closed his eyes. After taking a few cleansing breaths, he opened them again and looked out the window, intent on occupying himself with the outside world.  
  
//Yellow car. Black motorcycle. Woman pushing a baby stroller. Blue bike. Sydney. Old lady. Green. . .  
  
Wait. . . Sydney?//  
  
All of a sudden, his cell phone was pressed to his ear, Sydney's voice coming across the line loud and clear.  
  
"Hello?" she asked.  
  
He answered with silence.  
  
"Um, hello?"  
  
He could see her face clearly from where he sat. She had her eyebrows furrowed, waiting impatiently for an answer.  
  
"I'm gonna hang. . ."  
  
He took a deep breath. "Syd."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Vaughn?" she asked timidly. He saw her stance change and predicted the anger that was to follow.  
  
"Are you insane? Are you trying to get us both killed?" she hissed. "What if I had been with my friends? God, you just don't THINK sometimes!"  
  
"You aren't. With someone, that is," he replied coolly. "I can see you from where I am." He watched amused as her head shot up and craned around to look for his familiar face. "I don't see you." she started.  
  
"Coffee's great on a day like today," he replied before hanging up on her.  
  
She stared dumbfounded at her phone before glancing up to figure out his clue. She smiled smartly when her eyes found the café's little sign swinging in the slight breeze: "Home Style Coffee."  
  
She pushed the front door open, alerting the lone waitress to a new customer. Acknowledging her with a nod, Sydney turned to scan the sparse crowd, not seeing him. Sighing, she began to walk slowly towards the back where she had a feeling he would be, sitting in the soft shadow of the setting sun.  
  
He watched as she pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button, holding the phone to her ear. Suddenly, his phone was dancing around on the table beside his hand, alerting Sydney to his whereabouts. He grabbed it, attempting to silence it by shoving it back in his pocket.  
  
Smirking, she glided towards him, slipping into the seat across from him.  
  
"Hi," she said, looking straight into his eyes.  
  
"Hey yourself," he replied, before averting his gaze.  
  
"About the other night," Sydney started, before being interrupted by the waitress.  
  
"Anything for you, miss?"  
  
"Uh, you wouldn't happen to serve chai tea here, would you?" The waitress nodded, before walking away.  
  
"Um, as I was saying. . ."  
  
And then he scared her, scared himself with the vehemence in his voice. "Don't."  
  
She stopped short, lowering her head like a student caught talking in class.  
  
"You know," he sighed wistfully, "I never expected to get an agent like you. Hell, I never expected to get an agent, period. I was Vaughn, the desk guy. The smart one. The one who had all the answers. And then all of a sudden Devlin's sending me to you, telling me to shape up and get into handler mode. Handler mode! It had been almost 5 years since the last time I even had remote experience as a handler." He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them furiously before taking a chance to look at her. She was watching him intently, chewing silently on the edge of her finger.  
  
"Don't do that," he said before shifting in his seat. She immediately dropped her hand into her lap, opening her mouth to speak. But he was shaking his head. "I'm not done."  
  
Turning to look out the window, he continued, "From the moment I saw you, I knew. I KNEW, Sydney. I had no doubt in my mind whatsoever that you were going to change my life. I knew that I would fall far you, if I hadn't fallen for you already." He snuck a glance at her by way of the window's reflection. She was struggling to hold back her tears.  
  
"I should have known better. I should have dropped your case the second I knew I couldn't separate my two lives. I'm forbidden by CIA protocol to mix business with pleasure. I just ignored it every time someone hinted at my 'growing emotional attachment.' I ignored it all. All because I fell for you and wanted to make sure you came back in one piece. London, Calcutta, Montreal, Taipei, Paris. . . I needed to make sure I could bring you home. I didn't trust anyone else to do it."  
  
At that moment, a steaming mug of chai tea was placed in front of Sydney. "Everything alright here?" the waitress asked.  
  
Sydney looked up at her with tearful eyes. "Yeah, uh. . . " - Checking her nametag - "Mandy. . . We're. . . umm, breaking up, so to speak." Mandy nodded sympathetically before walking away again.  
  
Turning back to him, Sydney began to speak before he could start up again. "I know. I knew what you felt. I felt it too, but I didn't want to at first. I started to question my sanity to try and find love so. . . . So soon after losing Danny. It almost felt like I was betraying him. This. . . connection between us? It used to hurt me so much. But I'm ready now. I want to pursue this. I want to meet with you in little cafés so we can just be together. I want to look you in the eyes and tell you exactly what I'm feeling, thinking." She blushed then, but continued. "But until SD-6 is taken down, I can't risk our lives like that. We're risking everything just by being here right now."  
  
Vaughn nodded. "I know." Another sigh escaped his lips. "Sydney, the CIA's beginning to question my emotional stability, whether or not I can handle being your handler. They're right to do so. I can't even stay objective anymore when I've got you on comm. I risk your safety and compromise our mission every time I oversee your counters. I can't. . ." sighing deeply, he looked directly at her for the first time that day, holding her gaze. "I can't be your handler anymore."  
  
"Shut up. Don't fuck around with me," she whispered before looking down at her tea and swirling it around with her cinnamon stick.  
  
Shaking his head and reaching across the table for her hand, he replied, "I can't. I won't do it anymore. I refuse to endanger you any more than I already have. One of these days, if I stay on as your handler, I'll get you killed."  
  
She closed her eyes and pulled away from him defiantly.  
  
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. There's no going back. I withdrew my position as your handler and requested a transfer this morning." Her eyes shot up to meet his, her tears forming streak marks as her mascara began to run.  
  
"I know that you think I'm doing this to hurt you, but I'm not. I'm trying to do what's best for me. It's been so long since I've thought about anyone else but you. But I need to take care of myself now, Sydney." Running his hands through his hair, he leaned back into the booth. "Weiss is going to be taking over your case. You will by no means ever have to worry about being left with Lambert. I'll still be around, checking up on you, but you will not be my prime objective anymore. I'll most likely be operating from another branch."  
  
Sydney had somewhat calmed down, an occasional sob escaping from her lips. "I understand," she whispered. "You were right. What you said at the warehouse? It's true. I know you deserve more than this. . . More than me. I hope you. . . find someone who can take away the pain. Someone to love. Someone to live for."  
  
He shook his head ruefully. "I'm not running away to be with some other woman, Syd. There's no one else for me but you. I just need to separate myself from you so that I can still be the man that you love. The longer I stay, the more I'll lose who I really am." Taking her hand again, he whispered, "You won't love what I've become. I promise you, Syd. The day SD- 6 falls I will be waiting for you to come out of Credit Dauphine. I am going to hold you and never let you go. That's what I'm looking forward to."  
  
And then with a glance at his watch, he stood. "I need to get out of here." She stood as well, facing him but not looking at him.  
  
"Goodbye, Michael." His heart stopped.  
  
Breathing in deeply, he whispered, "Goodbye, Sydney."  
  
Throwing a twenty on the table, he brushed past her. He only made it a few steps before she called out to him. "Michael. . ."  
  
"Don't. . . don't say anything," he said, trying to keep his voice void of the overwhelming feeling of love he felt for the woman behind him, failing miserably.  
  
Cautiously, she walked the few steps to stand in front of him. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes.  
  
"Don't make this harder for us," he whispered.  
  
She gently drew her finger across his lips before letting her own lips meet his in a fleeting kiss filled with a promise of a future together. She pulled away slightly and rested her forehead against his chest.  
  
Vaughn wrapped her in a tight hug and held her for a few moments before pulling away. Nodding, acknowledging her silent vow, he turned away from her and made his way to the door. Pushing it open, he stepped out into the street, darkened by the absence of the sun.  
  
Forcing himself not to look back at her, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking down the street before his last bit of resolve crumbled. 


	2. It's Not Over

Title: It's Not Over  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do? Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: I had no beta for this part, seeing as how I never got the beta-ed version of part 1 back. I've decided to veto betas for the time being, so all mistakes you see are the result of the wide gaps in my fine tooth comb. Although feel free to point out mistakes. OH. And excuse the jumbled-ness of it all. It's not my usual style. Just something I thought I'd try.   
  
  
  
He stood motionless in the camouflage of the darkness and shadows. He stood absolutely still, only chancing movement when breathing and blinking, actions he used sparingly as he stood in her yard, watching her.  
  
He knew he shouldn't be there. He knew that if he were found out, he would be reprimanded immediately. His new superiors knew all of what he had risked for her. They knew, and they let him know that they'd tolerate nothing of the same sort. The people at Inter-Op L.A. were far more strict than they had ever been at Langley and back at regular offices.  
  
But he couldn't help himself. It had been almost a year since that fateful day when he had decided to leave her, almost a year since she had let her lips touch his. He had walked away from her, convinced he was doing what was best for him. For once, his life was about him.  
  
He couldn't say that he regretted his decision, not completely. His new life at the secret branch had provided him with a new beginning. He wasn't "Vaughn, the desk boy" anymore. Upon his arrival, he had put in a request for field training. He was granted permission and sailed through the two-month training program with amazing accuracy and determination. His superiors, although wary at first, had been thoroughly impressed with his progress. He was Inter-Op's golden boy, and damn proud of it.  
  
But even golden boys were human, so he allowed himself the simple pleasure of watching her through the living room window.  
  
He had heard through Weiss that Francie was once again getting engaged. To whom, he wasn't entirely sure. He was positive that Sydney was feeling utterly isolated.  
  
She appeared to be alone tonight, a heavy blanket of sadness shrouding her. He ventured closer, moving stealthily with the wind, only to be stopped dead in his tracks. She was looking out the window. Looking straight at him. Or at least in his general direction. She stared, and he froze.  
  
Both remained motionless, until she finally stood and made her way out the front door and onto the porch. She scanned the lawn somewhat thoroughly, missing him where he stood in the shadows.  
  
Sighing, she sat down on the steps and began to cry. Slow, drawn out sniffles grew to heaving sobs, and his heart broke with hers. He wanted to console her, but he knew he couldn't.   
  
Instead he watched over her until her tears subsided. He watched over her until she picked herself up to head inside once again. He watched over her till she glanced in his direction and smiled.  
  
She knew he was there all along.   
  
She turned abruptly and walked inside again, locking the door securely before walking through her home and turning off all the lights.  
  
He couldn't help but chuckle slightly before turning and walking down the street towards his car. It was nearing midnight, and the faster that time approached, the faster he could leave for his scheduled mission.  
  
He was especially excited about this mission. This was the one that would bring SD-6 down. This was the one that would allow him to… he didn't even dare think of Sydney in that way so close to game time.  
  
It was a solo mission. No backup and going in blind. He was more than capable of pulling it off, and he was more than happy to do the job. His excitement was starting to boil. Smiling, he jumped into his car and flipped on his earpiece.  
  
"Maxwell going in. Observe radio silence until further notice."  
  
Michael Vaughn waited for the confirming, "Copy that," before driving off to his destination: an uncovered and heavily monitored vault containing crippling evidence and information concerning SD-6 and the Alliance.  
  
"This is for you, Syd."  
  
***  
  
20 minutes later found him scouring the side of a building with minimal equipment to avoid detection for as long as possible. He pulled himself higher and farther away from the ground, fighting not to look down or let go. He was beginning to fill up with the adrenaline rush he was experiencing as he closed the distance between himself and the awaiting window that would serve as his entrance.  
  
He forced himself on, even as his arms began to tire and his footing began to slip. He needed this intel more than he wanted to let on.   
  
After almost an hour of hanging off the side of a building, he reached the window, pulling out an alarm disrupter that gave him roughly 5 minutes to get in and out with the copied intel. He did what he needed to do, careful not to set off the numerous booby traps that were sure to be planted in the room. With only seconds to go and no real escape planned, he attached his bungee cord to his belt and hooked it to the window's metal frame before launching himself out of the window.  
  
A few minutes later, he was sprinting to his car yet again, the alarms blaring in the background. It was only as he started out did anyone begin to chase him, but he was good. And he got what he needed.  
  
"HQ, this is Maxwell. Mission accomplished… Call main office in. This could be it."  
  
He was riding a cloud, almost forgetting to check for tails. By the time he reached Inter-Op, he was happily dazed.  
  
He casually dropped off the copied information to the tech guys and made his way to his office slowly. He was so preoccupied with thoughts of his promising future, that he didn't sense the other person in the room.  
  
"Hey Mike."  
  
"Eric!" he cried, startled. Smiling, he enclosed his friend in a hug. "Long time, buddy."  
  
Eric nodded, laughing as well. "I hear field duty's treating you well." He nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "At first, it was just an attempt to keep busy. But it grew on me."  
  
Suddenly, he grew serious. "Who'd you come down with?" Eric Weiss smiled knowingly. "It's only me, Devlin, and Agent Bristow." His demeanor became pristine and calm, but his eyes betrayed him. "Both, actually. They're in the conference room waiting on you and the news." He nodded with a tiny smile lighting his face.  
  
They both headed out of his office towards his old colleagues, when suddenly he caught sight of her and her father exiting the conference room as Eric's cell rang simultaneously. Neither of the Bristows looked particularly happy, but Sydney looked like she had been crying.  
  
Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, and then turned to look at his friend on the phone. The instant their eyes met, he knew that although his mission was a success, the data he had retrieved was inconclusive. Closing his eyes, he turned to face the woman he saw in his dreams. They're eyes locked.   
  
He could almost hear her from across the room over the din of his workplace, but he could clearly see the words she mouthed. "It's not over, is it…" she stated, more than asked. He shook his head almost inconceivably. "No, it's not over. I'm sorry."  
  
She nodded slightly, a lone tear sliding down her cheek.   
  
And for the second time in a year, he walked away from the woman he loved. 


	3. Personal, Loopy Hell

Title: Personal, Loopy Hell  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: I have no idea where I'm going with this anymore. But if you like it, well... thanks, I guess. lol Also thx to anyone who takes the time to R&R (either/or, of course). Again, I'm veto-ing betas, so if you see something hideously wrong, c'est ma faute, entièrement.  
  
  
  
  
He was beginning to think that his life was all one endless loop, his own personal hell. He was always finding himself in a constant, vicious cycle of hope and wanting (I want to be with you), only to be stepped on, snuffed out like a candle's flame (I'm sorry, Vaughn. The information you retrieved was inconclusive – again).  
  
He found himself beginning to expect the failure. To him, it felt more natural and real to assume the worst because that's what usually happened. What could be worse than having to be separated from the one person that means the world to you? He didn't know the answer, and he was almost positive he didn't want to know. He was hurting badly enough as it was.  
  
The times when he found himself alone, his mind drifted to the stories he was told as a child. He could never remember where he heard them from, but one story always surfaced: The story of the levels of hell, how there is more than one. Each level was more intense, hot and fiery than the last. The lowest level was for the insignificant badly behaved people.  
  
//I wonder where CIA field agents go. Maybe we make up a level all our own. Whatever.//  
  
He was reaching his limit. He knew that there was only one thing keeping him sane, aside from the numerous cups of coffee that got him through his most restless nights.   
  
//Coffee.//  
  
More and more, he thinks of that day when she had kissed him in that homey, random café. How he foolishly frequented that same café numerous times after, if only to be closer to her and how they used to be.  
  
He sat up straighter as the smell of freshly brewed (terrible tasting) coffee wafted through his office door.  
  
Rising slowly, he made up his mind to again visit that café (theirs), just to escape.  
  
Then he was leaving, yelling out to his co-workers at Inter-Op that he would be back later. "Takin' my lunch break early, guys. Be back after an hour or more. I haven't decided yet."   
  
He knew no one would contest him. Golden boys got what they wanted at Inter-Op (including their own office, in lieu of a corner and a cubicle).  
  
Driving down the streets of a suburban patch of L.A., he coasted to stop in front of a Tarot card reader. Intrigued, and reminded of his crazy, witch-like Aunt back in France, he parked his car and pulled out his wallet. He walked towards the woman, whose back was facing him.  
  
As he closed the distance, she visibly tensed. Softly, she spoke, "Please, young man. No money. I'll read you for free. You are in great pain and in need of answers."  
  
Vaughn stood with his mouth wide open (cartoons with their jaws dropped to the floor). Shaking himself slightly, he walked around to face her, settling himself on the stool meant for the "victim."  
  
"A simple reading for a simple answer to all your problems. I promise you, you will not experience this deep, underlying form of sadness again. You will understand all with only one card." Silently, she pushed the deck towards him. "Cut them… 9 times." (9, his lucky number). He does as he's told, cutting the deck shakily the 9 times he was told to do. Nodding, the woman picks up the cards and closes her eyes.  
  
She spreads the cards face down on the table between them, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "Pick one," she advised, and cut in abruptly as Vaughn reached for the first card. "FEEL the cards, young man. Do not just pick and choose blindly. Feel them, hover over them till you feel the pull of fate."   
  
Confused, yet somewhat comforted by her words ("feel the pull of fate"), he did just that, hovering… not expecting the force that he felt. Slowly, his hand moved on it's own accord towards the left side of the line of cards, stopping when his hand dropped defiantly on top of one card.   
  
The woman smiled. "Fate favors you to react so strongly to a simple Tarot reading such as this." She pushed his hand away gently, taking the card and looking at it thoughtfully before placing it before him.  
  
Alarmed, Vaughn gazed blankly at the face of "The Devil" card.  
  
"It isn't what you think, young man." She closed her eyes again. "Look at the card. The man and woman symbolize your spirit and body. There are loose chains holding them, hinting that they were placed there by the man and woman themselves. We, ourselves, create our own hell with a false understanding of our spirit and body. To escape our hell, we must rectify our understanding and then adjust our spiritual values so they work effectively to decrease the level of pain and your unsatisfied desires, wants and needs." She opened her eyes to look at him. "Is that clear young man? This down-spiraling abyss you've fallen into can be reversed. It isn't so much that you need a distraction, but merely a dose of reality. Fate favors you, as I've said before. It won't keep you unhappy forever."  
  
Vaughn was thoroughly in awe of this woman. Nodding, he rose to leave her, but she called out to him before he made it to his car. "Coffee's great on a day like today."  
  
Nodding, feeling the déjà vu at the back of his mind, he drove to "Home Style Coffee" a few more blocks down.  
  
He entered, the little bell chiming wildly. He looked up to see Mandy smiling at him, already preparing his regular. Smiling back at her, he made his way to the counter and sat himself on the edge of a stool (teetering).  
  
"You look like you need pie today, Mikey." He laughed softly. "Sure thing, Mandy. Any Sugar Pecan today?" She giggled at the absurdity of the conversation (the same one they have every time he comes). "Always."  
  
"I'll be in my seat," he tells her, and she waves him off like a fly. Smiling, he walks into the back, fiddling with his car keys (house keys, garage keys, office keys, Eric's spare key…). He was so preoccupied; he never noticed her sitting there with her Chai tea and apple pie (topped with Vanilla ice cream). By the time he noticed her, it was too late for him to turn around (to walk away – again). So he continued on his way and slid into the booth, seating himself across from her.  
  
"So…" she starts, "Mandy knows your name too?" He allowed himself to smile at her softly before turning to look out the window. But by then he had realized that whatever insight and relief he had received at the old woman's Tarot reading had dissipated the moment he saw her lips again.  
  
He knew that, if only for a short while longer, his own personal, loopy hell had started up again. 


	4. Can't Take It With Me

Title: Can't Take it With Me  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: I'm on update overload! So there are more mistakes than I care to count.   
  
And yes! I'm very much into Tarot reading! That bit I spooled off to you last chapter about "The Devil" card was real. It was a mixture of my interpretation of something more solid that I read… for life of me, I can't remember where. If you find it, tell me!  
  
And I still don't know where I'm going with this! Email me if you have any suggestions! LOL toodle loo…  
  
  
  
  
He didn't know why he agreed to it, but they continued to meet regularly. Not regularly in the sense that they had a pattern, but regularly that they never forgot each other's faces… never lost track of the conversation. Mandy, their wonderful waitress at "Home Style Coffee," was convinced that they had gotten back together ("No! We didn't… really. We still work together…").  
  
He was finally starting to feel whole again. His decision to leave her slowly faded into the background. His life again revolved around this amazing woman.  
  
But still, he couldn't help but feel guilty every time they met. He knew ever single time they got together to eat (him: pecan pie, her: apple pie with vanilla ice cream) and drink (him: straight, black coffee, her: Chai tea) that he was putting their lives in severe danger.  
  
He didn't hesitate to tell her either.   
  
"You know this is wrong, right?" he'd say, interrupting her explanation and feelings of her latest mission. "You know that we're killing our future each time we do this?" She'd just smile and nod, saying, "Yeah… but it's worth it to me. I don't have to wonder anymore."  
  
And he couldn't resist her smile, couldn't resist reaching for her hand across the table and holding it. Couldn't help wanting to kiss her, hold her (love her)… There were times when it was painfully obvious (look down) how much he wanted her, and all he could do was sit back and take what he could get. Which wasn't a lot, but enough to get by on.  
  
One rainy night, he found himself waiting on her one hour before closing. Mandy called to him from the counter: "Syd's a little late, ain't she? Musta' gotten caught in the downpour, poor girl."  
  
As if on cue, she pushed through the door in a flurry of wind, water, and the ringing of that lone bell. "Hey!" she smiled up at both of them. "Sorry I'm late! It's really coming down out there," she apologized, while shaking out her long hair to rid it of some of the water.  
  
Vaughn smiled at how incredible she looked, even though her makeup was streaked and smeared on her face from the falling rain.   
  
//I guess that's what it means to love someone.//  
  
That one stray thought caused him to choke on his coffee, startling both women in the room. Sydney laughed at him before slowly (painstakingly slow) walking towards their booth. "Hey you… Got in before the rain, I see…" she observed while blatantly observing him.  
  
He swallowed visibly.  
  
"Uh, yeah. I needed a good bout of coffee after the mission I had." She slinked into the seat beside him, behavior almost cat-like, to the point where he expected her to purr and nuzzle him. She did neither, simply laying her head on his shoulder, shivering slightly from the dampness of her clothes on her skin. Immediately, his jacket was around her, leaving him clad in a grey Gap sweater.   
  
After a content lifetime in silence, she spoke to him (music to his ears): "Vaughn? What would you say if I told you I loved you?"  
  
Bold. Eager. Passion. Heat.  
  
"I'd be very tempted to tell you the same, Syd. You know how I feel." He felt her nod against him, sighing softly.  
  
"Vaughn?" she asked sleepily.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm in love with you."  
  
"I – I… Thank you," he stuttered, wondering if she felt his hesitance (She definitely realized his failure to respond in the same manner).  
  
"You… You don't love me?" she sounded like she was about to cry.  
  
"It's not that I don't… Far from it." He knew he needed to explain himself to her, but he also knew that he never even bothered to explain it to himself. So what he said next? He was informing 2 people for the first time.  
  
"Syd, I… do. Love you, that is. I just… I'm not too sure I want to be telling you that; throwing the words around so carelessly. Every time I see you could be the LAST time I see you. I don't want to start something I can't finish." He paused for a long time after that, but she never ventured a response, so he continued.  
  
"There's nothing I want more in life than to be able to wake up next to you each morning, knowing that we can do it again the next morning. But Sydney, we don't have the luxury of normalcy. Everything we share here? I can't take it with me. I'd love to shout from every mountain top that I love you, but it would get us killed." He kissed her temple. "I don't want you to die because of my love for you." He moved to leave her, but she stopped him.   
  
"No, I think It's MY turn to walk away, Vaughn." She got up, shrugging his jacket to the floor.  
  
"You were right in walking away from me then. Screw what I think. I mean, what I feel couldn't possibly be important! I'm only… I dunno, THE OTHER PERSON INVOLVED IN THIS MESS!" she yelled out sarcastically. She turned on her heels quickly, skidding in the water. Before she knew it, she was falling…  
  
Only to be caught by Vaughn before she hit the floor. "Don't do this, Syd."  
  
"Don't do what? Walk away? What can I say… I learn from the best." With that, she was walking towards the door, barely acknowledging the flustered Mandy who was holding her steaming mug of Chai tea.  
  
"Forget these meetings, Vaughn. I wouldn't wanna die for you, or anything."  
  
And then she was gone.  
  
And he fell apart. 


	5. Didn't Think You'd Come

Title: Didn't Think You'd Come  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: This one seemed a bit lengthy to me… and I've been so obsessed with getting this chapter/part out of my system that there are probably a lot of grammatical errors. So sorry about that. Hopefully nothing too drastic that you won't be able to understand. I've been mixing my writing styles as well, so hopefully you won't hate that. My Tarot Woman appears (not physically, but mentioned) in the one, for those of you who liked her. Lol Hope you guys like this one. Feel free to tell me if you don't!  
  
  
  
  
His cell phone woke him up from an iffy type slumber. Reaching for it, he answered gruffly, "Vaughn."  
  
"Mike? It's Eric. Um, when was the last time you heard from Sydney?" At the mention of her, he opened his eyes. "What do you mean? You know I stopped seeing her after I left L.A. offices…"  
  
"Mike? Don't lie. I need to know," he paused, contemplating whether or not to tell him. "Something's come up concerning her."  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is, Eric. Just call her up and talk to her yourself." He still hadn't left his sleepy fog completely behind, and the urgency in his friend's voice had yet to shine through.  
  
"We would. We HAVE. She's just… not answering. Hasn't been for a week now. No one knows where she is."  
  
"She's missing?" he asked incredulously, suddenly alert (standing up) and completely awake.   
  
"Yes," his friend answered. "What's been going on between you two?"  
  
"I – We… I haven't seen her in months." He exhaled deeply as he sat back down. "We had a bad fight, and she hasn't contacted me since."  
  
"How long ago, Mike? I need specific time frames here."   
  
He stopped, counting back on the (painful) months that passed since the last time he saw her. "Last March. It's been 5 months."  
  
He heard a loud sigh come across the line. "What?" he asked. "What did that sigh mean, Eric?"  
  
"5 months. That explains her emotional detachment concerning our meetings and her missions. She… she didn't seem to care anymore. I guess she really didn't then."  
  
He was baffled. If she stopped caring 5 months ago, that meant…  
  
"She told me once, completely out of the blue, that you were the last thing she was holding on to. You were her motivation. Her inspiration."  
  
"What do you need from me?" He asked after a long (heart-breaking) pause.  
  
"We need you to come down, Vaughn."  
  
"I'm on my way," he answered.  
  
He didn't see or hear anything as he drove. In hindsight, he realized he was actually quite lucky to make it there in one piece. He continued on to the elevators, to his old office space in a daze (autopilot).  
  
"Agent Vaughn, nice to see you again." Vaughn nodded to Devlin in acknowledgement.  
  
"If you don't mind, Sir, I'd like to get down to business. Can you tell me where Agent Weiss is?"  
  
He was directed to a conference room where he found Eric. He was visibly tense and had files and papers fanned haphazardly around him on the table.  
  
"Any word?" he asked, as he sat down across from Eric.  
  
"No, none. You?" He shook his head in response.  
  
"When was the last time you talked to her Eric?"  
  
Eric sighed and looked up at him. "Last Sunday. She was coming home from a mission in Jakarta. She had the intel. She made the drop. But apparently, she never went home." He moved the papers around before speaking again: "Or she never made it home."  
  
Vaughn closed his eyes and exhaled. "She's running, you know." Eric looked up at him and answered, "I figured… Do you have any idea where she could've went?"  
  
He shook his hear forlornly. "She would've come to me if we were still on speaking terms. I can check in with Mandy to see if she's dropped by at the café at all in the last 5 months…"  
  
"Who's Mandy?" Eric interjected.  
  
"Mandy's our… well, she's our waitress. She's seen us a lot in the past 3 years." Eric nodded. "Ok, go ahead and call her."  
  
Mike nodded, picking up the phone and dialing the number he knew by heart (surprise). "Hey, is Mandy working? … Yeah, I'll hold." There was shuffling in the background before a perky waitress came on the line. "Mandy speaking! How may I help you?"  
  
"Mandy? It's Mikey. Pie Mikey?"  
  
She giggled contentedly. "Syd's boy! How are ya?"  
  
"Not so great, actually." He traced slow circles on the table. "I was, uh… actually wondering if you'd seen Syd lately? I mean, since our blow up I haven't exactly talked to her and… I'm worried now, I really am."  
  
"Hmm… so that's what she was talking about! She said people would be looking for her. Namely, you."   
  
Mike's back went rigid. "So you've seen her? Is she ok?"  
  
Eric opened his mouth to speak, but Mike raised his hand to stop him.   
  
Meanwhile, Mandy proceeded to recite instructions. "She said if you were to call, that… that it was good. It meant you still cared. She said if you were to come around, to make sure you were alone and to give you something. It's a package, actually. I've got it right here…"  
  
"I'm coming over right now," he interrupted before hanging up the phone.  
  
"She knew you'd call me. There's a package waiting for me at the café. I –I… She said I need to go alone or else I won't get the package."  
  
"I understand," Eric said, and before he could say anything else, Mike was out the door and running towards the elevator.  
  
He made it to the café in record time and bust in, surprising the 6 or 7 clients already seated for the early bird breakfast.  
  
"Mandy?" he called out. He rushed up to the counter, and called to her again. "Mandy, are you here?"  
  
"Shhhhh!" she yelled from the back. "I can hear ya, Mikey! Just calm down a bit…" She peeked around the doorframe she was hiding behind and checked to see if he was alone before she came out in plain view. She walked slowly towards him, a brown package tucked securely underneath her arm. "She said to take a look at it in your car." He raised his eyes to her questioningly and she shrugged in response. "She said you'd understand."   
  
He nodded, mumbled a quick thanks and a promise to return soon for coffee and pie, then stalked purposefully out towards his car.  
  
He jumped in, wasting no time in tearing the package open. From the opening dropped a cassette and 2 sheets of paper. He snatched up the tape, almost dropping it again in his frantic stupor. He shoved it in his tape deck and turned up the volume.   
  
"I'm fine. Really. Things have gone a little downhill for me, as I'm sure Agent Weiss has informed you. And I'm sure after a little bit of detective work you figured out why." She paused then, giving a little sigh before continuing. "I know this is immature of me, and I know I should've just asked you… but I needed to know without a doubt that you still cared." He heard her shift, her mattress creaking softly as an indication. "Umm, I went to see that fortune teller of yours. The one with the Tarot cards? The creepy one you told me about?" she laughed softly. "She is utterly amazing. Hit the nail right on the head. Kinda creepy, though. She knew I was friends with 'the Devil.' I swear, she said those exact words."  
  
"Umm, anyway… I picked the 'High Priestess' card. It stands for mystery and intrigue. She went on to say about soon being able to have the truth that I've been wanting for a while now." She took a deep breath, then continued quietly, "I realized that the truth that I want is you. YOU'RE my truth. But you know all this so… I'm gonna go. Go through those papers. If you can find me, then congrats to you. If you can't, I'll be home in a week. SD-6 thinks I'm going on a spiritual retreat." She laughed bitterly. "Sloane couldn't deny me that because it was the same group that Emily worked with. Everything's been taken care of. I'll , uh… I'll see you soon."  
  
He sat there, more or less stunned. He really, REALLY needed to see her now, if for nothing more than to just watch her and make sure she was truly alright. He glanced down at the 2 pieces of paper. One was a map marking out her trail; the second was a list of places she had yet to see.  
  
The next thing he knew he was on a plane to Graceland. She had mentioned something about being an Elvis fan. When he got there, he had searched every hotel within a mile radius for her, finally finding a trail of her.   
  
"Sorry, mister," the girl at front desk apologized. "She checked out 2 days ago and left this morning. She did leave something though. Your name's… Vaughn?" He almost corrected her (No, my name is Michael) but just nodded silently. She handed him a folded piece of paper and he took it with a mumbled, "Thanks."  
  
He walked back outside and walked to a lonely looking park bench outside the hotel. He sat down on it, took a deep breath, and unfolded the paper.  
  
"So I guess if you ARE reading this, I'm more retarded than I thought. I seriously thought I was losing my mind, thinking you wouldn't come. Right now, that girl at the desk is dialing my number to tell me you came."   
  
He stopped reading momentarily, briefly entertaining the thought of running back to the front desk and yanking the phone out of the receptionist's ear. Instead, he kept on.   
  
"I understand now… what you said the last time I saw you. I didn't want to believe you. I just wanted to feel normal for once, and there you were with the truth, stickin' out like a sore thumb… I do love you, Vaughn. I really do. I just need you to know that. I'm heading to New York City for the rest of the week. I want to see the sights and all that. Maybe ride the trains all around. Get lost like a good tourist. Maybe I'll see you around…"  
  
H e nodded.  
  
//I guess I'm going to New York City.//  
  
******  
  
A few hours later, he debarked at La Guardia. He hailed a cab and directed the driver to the Empire State Building. He had an intense gut feeling that that's where she'd be. He vaguely remembered her telling him about the light schedule of the building; how she always wanted to experience it first hand. He looked out the cab window and out into the night sky. Already, the building was lit up in an incredible blue glow.   
  
//She HAS to be there.//  
  
He took the elevators up to the top floor, exiting into the souvenir shops. He saw a tall, brown haired woman standing outside in the observatory, just overlooking the city. He made his way to the door and pushed it open quietly.  
  
He stood at the entrance just watching her watch the city. Finally, he spoke up: "It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" her shoulders tensed slightly at the intrusion, but they relaxed again as the recognition of his voice hit her.   
  
She nodded and held out her hand for him to take. He stepped forward and took it, wrapping her small frame in a tight hug. "Thank God you're ok," he whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, leaning into him. They stood like that forever, before she finally spoke again.  
  
"Stay with me."  
  
He smiled as he kissed her temple. "I wouldn't have it any other way." 


	6. Utterly Alone

Title: Utterly Alone  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: I've been having a whole lot of personal problems at home. My family's completely outta whack. This chapter's been a long time coming, and it's been ready for about 2 days. But with what's happened at home, I was compelled to kill how it actually went. It now seems fitting. I have no clue how many of you will actually end up liking it, but I hope you do. Forgive me. :o) I tried to lengthen it a bit to compensate for the lost time, so if it doesn't always seem to flow… SOWIEE!!   
  
  
  
  
They spent a leisurely time in New York, just strolling through Central Park and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears as they held hands in the autumn sun. Each night they slept together (making love, caught up in passion) and waking up in each other's arms the next morning. They were (for the most part) content.  
  
They'd sit around in cafés in the city reminiscing on their "rendez-vous privés" at home (Good Ol' "Home Style Coffee"). They'd shop and laugh and act like the perfect (in love) couple that they should have been. They aimed for the normalcy that they had both always craved.  
  
He couldn't help but wish their time would never end. He couldn't help but hope that she felt the same way. He couldn't help but love her like he always had.  
  
//This feel so normal. So right.//  
  
But as their secret time together came to a close, she grew more and more reserved. Concerned one night as she stood by the window, he pulled her down into his lap, eliciting a soft smile and giggle.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts…" he said, nuzzling her neck. She sighed deeply, leaning into him. "It's not gonna be easy for us when we get home, you know."  
  
He nodded, urging her to go on. "I just… This probably wasn't very smart of us, you know? We're constantly gonna be wanting and hoping, we're both gonna be distracted… which is dangerous!! I… We…Gosh, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."   
  
He chuckled, then gently tilted her head upwards and kissed her softly. He held on to her, holding her and letting her melt into him (We are one). He played with her hair, it's shininess distracting him momentarily from the complicated mess that they called reality.   
  
When he finally spoke, it was with confidence, to reassure both himself and beautiful woman sitting in his lap.  
  
"If we really want this, we can make it happen. It isn't like before, you know. There's no protocol to stop us. It wouldn't be such a hard thing for us to… pursue a relationship. I virtually don't exist, Syd. I work at a secret office. If we want this, we can have it… Just say the word."  
  
He saw her smile reflected in the glass of the window. "I never thought of it like that." She twisted slightly and pecked him on the cheek. He waited for her to say the words, but she never did. His spirits, which had been soaring only seconds before, were suddenly plummeting to his feet.  
  
//She doesn't want this.//  
  
Slowly she rose from his lap, his hands falling carelessly from her waist.   
  
"Let's go to bed," she whispered. Broken, he followed her, savoring the way she moved towards the(ir) bed. They slipped underneath the sheets, and he made love to her like there was no tomorrow.  
  
***  
He woke up the next morning feeling unbelievably sore and alone. He didn't realize how true that actually was until he reached out for her and only took in air. He bolted upright, searching the room thoroughly with his eyes, but he already knew she was gone.  
  
Silently, he got up, gathered some clean clothes and went to the bathroom to clean up and change.   
  
In 15 minutes, he was set to go. As he stood in the elevator heading towards the lobby, he leaned against the walls and closed his eyes.   
  
Now he knew what she felt like when he had walked away from her all those years ago.  
  
Broken, betrayed, crushed and utterly alone.  
  
He continued to feel that way in the cab ride to the airport, waiting to board his plane, on the plane itself, in the stop over in Las Vegas, landing in L.A., and sitting in his apartment when he finally got home.  
  
All of a sudden, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. He yanked the phone out of the stand and pressed the ON button. His fingers hovered hesitantly over the numbers. He shook his head and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again and began to dial the numbers that he knew by heart.  
  
He waited as the phone rang (once, twice, three times…) before a sleepy "Hello?" greeted him.  
  
"Uh… hey, Weiss. I'm home." He sighed as he sat down on his couch, trying desperately to disappear into the soft folds.  
  
"Are you alright, Mike? Is she… Are you alone?" He nodded (He can't see me) before answering, "Yeah. I am… I'm not sure if she went directly home after I saw her though, so I don't know when she'll be back."  
  
Eric sighed softly. "You didn't answer my first question, but it sounds like you had a rough time, Mike," (I DID. But I'll live) "but I'm afraid it's not gonna get any better. You haven't contacted us in days. We didn't know where you were. Devlin was set to burn you at the stake."  
  
Mike nodded, but he had thought of a cover story on his way over (to keep himself from being engulfed in his loneliness and sadness). "It was weird. Like she knew I was tracking her. I had to be discreet or I never would have gotten the chance to threaten her scrawny ass." He chuckled then, trying to make his story believable.  
  
Eric laughed along. "Good, good. So that's what I'll tell Devlin… How did your week really go?"  
  
Images of them making love, waking up together, enjoying the peace and tranquility of normal life flooded him… all shattered with the memory of waking up alone earlier that day. He sighed as he felt his heart break a little more.   
  
"All you need to know was that it was bittersweet."  
  
Eric couldn't keep the sympathy and pity from his voice. "Mike, I'm sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't feel this way when you came home."   
  
//Neither did I, quite frankly.//  
  
A few minutes later, after the phone was hung up, he still found his apartment deafeningly silent. So he left, indulging himself by taking a long walk.   
  
He walked to the park, he walked up to the lookout spot where he could see everything… He saw the pier and knew she'd be there, yet he decided against the imminent confrontation and walked towards the beach instead (the opposite direction). He plopped himself in the sand and sat still, just watching the waves roll in and retreat (roll in and retreat… roll in and retreat… over and over and over and over…). Before long, he was watching the sunrise.  
  
He was hit with a realization and the suns rays simultaneously: He'd feel the same no matter where he went or whom he was with.  
  
Without Sydney Bristow, he'd always feel utterly alone. 


	7. A Few Months Later

Title: A Few Months Later   
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: My internet is retarded... Just thought I'd let you know :o) Here is my chapter 7. I'm sure there'll be a few that don't like it. Just keep in mind that I'm an S/V shipper to the end. lol Ch. 8 will be difficult for me to write. i'll try to have it out asap. toodles!  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hey Mike... You alright?" His eyes snapped open to reveal (Agent) Matthew Stevens, an office buddy of his.   
  
"Hey... – Yeah, I'm great. Fine," he replied offhandedly as he sighed wearily, leaning back into his cushy seat.  
  
"Uh, it's just that... Ok, I'll give it to you straight. Our friends out there? They're all worried about you, Mike. They voted on me to come talk to you about it 'cause we're close and all that… You've been very detached and… well, you volunteer yourself for the most dangerous missions." Matt sighed. "We're all worried. We don't need you to be in suicide mode here."  
  
//Have I been that obvious?//  
  
He sighed, and shook his head, trying to come off as rueful. "I've been a tad bit occupied, that's all."   
  
Matt scoffed haughtily. "For the past 5 months? You've got to be kidding me! I swear Mike, you need to get over this girl and move on with your –"  
  
"Who told you it was a girl?" he broke in, suddenly enraged at the mere thought of Sydney. "I don't recall even mentioning a girl to you, Matt."  
  
"True, true," Matt replied, "but it doesn't take a genius to see what you're going through. You gonna tell me about it?"  
  
Mike shook his head. "No, no I won't. Not now, anyway." He added the last part when he saw the hurt flicker across his friend's face.  
  
Matt nodded and turned to leave. "You know where to find me."   
  
When he was alone again, he let his mind drift to thoughts of her (thoughts of loving her, needing her). He remembered her lying in his arms, kissing him sweetly.   
  
His few minutes of silence were interrupted when his phone rang loudly on his desk. Sighing, he scooped up the receiver.  
  
"Vaughn."  
  
"Hey, it's Eric." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he quickly frowned instead.  
  
"How are you, buddy?" he asked, settling comfortably in his chair.  
  
"I'm good. I just wanted to know if you... Well, if you'd..."  
  
"Christ, just spit it out."   
  
Eric sighed. "I wanted to know if you'd meet Sydney."  
  
Sigh (a lot of those going around). "Not this again. You always ask me to… If she wants to see me, tell her to set it up herself. I don't have time for go-betweens, Eric."  
  
They sat in relative silence before Eric ventured out into the open again. "She asked about you again today."  
  
"What did you tell her?" he asked, beginning to get irritated.  
  
He could hear Eric shuffling papers around, trying to look busy no doubt.  
  
"Well, I told her the truth. I told her that you never stay on the phone long enough for me to get a clear idea of what state of mind you're in. I told her that you're quieter, more reserved. I told her that you recommend yourself for all the suicide missions. I told her… I told her you don't ask about her."  
  
He nodded, even though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "Good, that's what I wanted," he replied shortly.  
  
"Mike, don't do this. I don't exactly know what happened in New York, but it can't be this bad."  
  
Steadily, his blood began to boil with anger. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you Eric? You'd love to think of me as the bad guy here. Why don't you ask her why she left me in New York? Ask her THAT, Eric. Ask her why I had to come home alone!"  
  
"Whoa there, calm down! It doesn't seem so different from what you did to her… what was that, 4 years ago?"  
  
He laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it'd be so much easier if things were as cut and dry as that." He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself and his emotions. "The only thing that was different was that we spent that entire week together. TOGETHER, Eric. I made love to that woman every night. We walked around like normal people, and I realized that I actually wanted to BE normal. I finally told her I loved her. I was ready to commit like she'd asked me to months before. Then she—" his voice cracked with all the emotion it held, "She LEFT me." By the time he finished, he was out of breath and red-faced (ready to break down and cry all over again).  
  
"Ask her that, Eric, then you can judge about what was worse." Silently, he hung up the phone. He closed his eyes, involuntarily letting a few tears fall.  
  
He began to see what other people were seeing… how emotionally unstable he really was. He never talked about what happened to anyone, and he finally realized that he should talk to someone. ANYONE.  
  
Brushing the tears away, he dialed Matt's extension on his phone. "Hey Matt, you wanna get in here for a sec?"  
  
***  
  
Over an hour later, he was sitting silently with Matt, having told his entire story to him. He was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted, and he let out a yawn for effect. But he felt remotely better (just a little bit).  
  
Matt merely sat with a stunned expression on his face.  
  
After a few minutes, he whispered, "It all makes sense now. How some C.I.A. operatives and officers were crawling around here that year you went solo and almost didn't come back." Mike thought back, remembered, and nodded.   
  
"Yeah," he replied.  
  
"The girl... Bristow? She was your double?"   
  
He closed his eyes and breathed out another soft "Yeah."  
  
Matt waited till he opened his eyes before smirking good-naturedly at his friend. "I thought it was your fiancée or something, coming down with the family and her father." He couldn't help but smile and chuckle (it's been a while).  
  
"It's been a hard road for you, Mike," he continued in all seriousness. "You need to loosen up a bit, get back to the land of the living. I know you still love her; I can see it in your eyes. Anybody who isn't blind can probably pick up on it."   
  
Mike dragged his face over his hand roughly, moaning good-naturedly. "What are you suggesting?"  
  
Matt nodded at him with a smile. "Come out with me tonight. Just me and my wife... and my cousin, Sara..." he mumbled.  
  
Mike laughed out loud. "You're trying to set me up with your cousin?" he asked incredulously, with no venom lacing his words. He smiled despite himself.  
  
Matt laughed along with him. "Yes, I am. She's staying with us for a few months. She passed her board exams... all of them. My girl's a great lawyer, apparently. You'll like her. If nothing else, I'm sure you guys would be great friends. You have a ton in common."  
  
//Here goes nothing...//  
  
"Yeah," he replied with a slight smile. "I'm... I'm up for it." 


	8. Meeting Sara

Title: Meeting Sara  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: Umm, I run the risk of receiving/reading less reviews by posting this chapter so soon after the last (because, you know, reading reviews is like.. food for thought. Or like... whatever. It's a good feeling lol) But it's done, and a people want to see it. I had no idea how to write this chapter, I really didn't. Now I have absolutely no clue where this is going. Feel free to give me direction, thought I already know what most of you want. :) This chapter's been edited QUITE a few times before i even considered it being remotely ready to be posted. So uh, go on now... take a look. (thx for the sweet reviews! u guys rock!!)  
  
  
  
  
  
He was unbelievably nervous.   
  
He was so unprepared for the prospect of dating that he didn't even have anything other than his (work) suits and old mission clothes in his closet.  
  
He had raided Max's (classy neighbor and running partner) home in hopes of finding something appropriate to wear, claiming that he needed a favor.  
  
"Hot date?" Max asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Mike laughed as he continued to rifle through his closet. "Something like that."  
  
An hour later, he was washed, dressed and sitting in his car using his spy skills to lay low. He didn't want to be the first to show up.   
  
//At least this way, if I want to back out, no one will know.//  
  
He waited patiently till he saw Matt and his wife walk inside the expensive looking Italian restaurant, accompanied by a tall, brown-haired girl. Almost immediately, his mind shot to Sydney. He sighed and shook his head. He was supposed to be moving on (sort of).  
  
He got out of his car and straightened the clothes he had stolen from Max (a navy blue, short-sleeved, button up shirt with black slacks), checked his pocket for his wallet and cell, then slowly crossed the street to the restaurant. He locked his car doors before cautiously pushing the door open. He nodded to the hostess, who simply smiled and pointed him in the right direction.   
  
He glanced over and saw Matt looking at him, a smirk on his face. The look clearly said "You can't spy on a spy," and he had the courtesy to blush.  
  
The whole table stood up as he approached. He shook hands with Matt, kissed his wife Alyssa, and left Sara for last. He turned to her then and his green eyes met a similar pair. She smiled brightly before sticking out her right hand. "Sara Stevens."  
  
He smiled back at her, saying, "Michael Vaughn."  
  
They all sat down and fell into an easy conversation. It was clear to everyone at the table (Michael included) that the blind date was going well, but to what extent no one knew.  
  
***  
  
//Sue me, I like her.//  
  
He smiled to himself as they settled down for dessert. The air filled with slow ramblings about nothing in particular. After Michael had paid the bill, with much protest from the Stevens' ("I get paid a little too well for my liking"), it was agreed that Michael would bring Sara home.   
  
After saying their goodbyes and goodnights, both couples (loose term) rose to leave. Now that it was later in the evening, the crown had come in, leaving the restaurant more crowded than it was earlier. In single file they left, Michel grabbing onto Sara's hand to make sure she didn't get left behind. He made himself feel normal. He made himself understand that this was what he wanted.  
  
He made himself think he wanted Sara (for all the wrong reasons). It wasn't hard. She was a great girl, with beautiful green eyes, and a quick wit to match. If had continued on in the world of lawyer-ism, he was sure he would have met his match in Sara (in more ways than one).   
  
He was so lost in his dream of normalcy with Sara that, when he pushed the main door open and walked out into the street with Sara in tow, he blindly hit someone with the door. He peeked around it to come face to face with Sydney's brown eyes. "I – I'm sorry…" he apologized, his shock registering on his face as he looked at her.  
  
Her eyes were glued to where his hand held Sara's. A man suddenly steeped in front of Sydney, blocking her. Watch where you're going," he said, before pushing Sydney ahead of him and into the restaurant. Michael frowned when he saw the man's hand rest on Sydney's waist.  
  
"You didn't have to be so mean, Will," he heard her say. "He apologized. It was an accident…" Her voice faded out as she walked further into the restaurant.  
  
He faintly heard Sara calling out to him and he looked down at her.   
  
"Do you know her?" she asked. He nodded. "Yeah, I do."  
  
"Then why didn't you stop to talk to –"  
  
He raised their hands and kissed their union. "Don't worry about it."  
  
The two made their way to his car, and got in. He put his key into the ignition and turned to Sara. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
With no hesitation, she replied, "Take me to the beach."  
  
He nodded, and he drove off without another word.  
  
When they got there 15 minutes later, she got out. His eyes followed her out onto the sand and watched as she disappeared into the shadows. He found her standing in the tide as it rolled in.   
  
He came to stand next to her. "Is there a specific reason you wanted to come here?" he asked her gently.   
  
She turned to smile at him, then looked up at the moon. "Yes, actually. I knew that we could talk here."  
  
He was quieted by her words, so she continued. "I know he shouldn't have, but Matt told me about your situation. And I know that… well, we have to be careful about what we say and where and I figured the tide makes a good cover noise…"  
  
His jaw clenched at the breach of trust (softened at her precautions), but still Sara continued. "Don't be mad at him. He just didn't want me to say the wrong things tonight. He cares a lot about you."  
  
He sighed as his jaw relaxed. "I know he does."  
  
"So that was her, huh? The infamous heartbreaker?" He nodded.   
  
"She's beautiful," Sara sighed. "I wish my hair looked as good as hers."  
  
Michael smiled in response, shaking his head slowly.  
  
"It's hard to fall out of love with someone who's been such a big part of your life, Mike. I know you want to move on. But who are you to say that you won't be moving on with her?" She took his hand and held it tightly. "You owe it to yourself to talk to her, REALLY talk to her about everything that's happened. Everything that you are feeling."  
  
Her gaze swept back and forth between him and the stars. "It's beautiful tonight, it really is. You should be with her, not me."   
  
He sighed softly. "I really did want to move on and meet someone new, Sara," he said defeated. "I'm sorry that you had to waste a night on me."  
  
"Wasted?" she said incredulously. "I wasn't looking for romance, Mike. Granted it would have been nice to fall in love with someone like you…" she smiled shyly in the moonlight. "But above all I, I was looking for a companion tonight. Someone I could talk to. And I found that. I don't think I wasted a thing."  
  
A few minutes later, Michael dropped Sara off at Matt's house, promising to call her with an update. "She's a lucky girl, this Sydney. She's getting a great guy," she had told him, before exiting his car.   
  
He drove home, pulling out his phone as he pulled into the driveway. Walking up the steps, he saw a figure sitting on the top step.   
  
She looked up: "Hey."  
  
Stunned, he stopped walking and uttered a quiet "Hi."  
  
"We need to talk," she said, and he nodded.   
  
"I was about to call you," he said, pointing to his phone and then shoving it back into his pocket. He turned to walk back down the steps and she got up and followed him.   
  
"She's pretty, that girl you were with."  
  
He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she is."  
  
"Can I ask who she was?" she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes as they walked down the street.  
  
"She's my friend's cousin. We were set up on a blind date tonight."  
  
"I wasn't aware that you, uh… that you were dating," she told him, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.  
  
"I'm not… she's in town for a couple days; Matt invited me to dinner with them. She graduated law school and took a year off before taking her board exams. Now she's here for a couple months, scoping out the place. He thought I'd make her comfortable. I graduated law, too."  
  
She nodded. "I didn't know that."  
  
"Apparently, there's a lot you don't know," he said resentfully. He took a deep breath before he began again. "You were with Will tonight."   
  
"Yeah, he was bugging me to get out of the house. It's the end of the semester… I had a lot of work to do and I didn't get out much." She smiled suddenly. "I teach grade 4." Then it melted and disappeared, continuing with her original story. "Umm, so yeah. Will doesn't let up, so I finally said yes."  
  
"I see…"  
  
She skittered in front of him, putting up her hands to get him to stop walking. "You have every right to hate me right now, you really do. And I'm sorry I walked away. I'm sorry. I was so scared. I was thinking about what you said. Dying for you because I loved you. I finally understood. I didn't want you to die for me when we got back to L.A."  
  
He shook his head angrily. "So you took what you could get and left me? That wasn't fair, Syd. You practically used me."  
  
He pushed past her and continued walking down the street. "I know it wasn't fair!" she cried out as she caught up with him and grabbed his arm and spun him around. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm not good with this… this—" her arms were flailing around for effect, "this TALKING thing! I always say the wrong thing."   
  
He stopped walking again and watched as the tears streamed down her face. "I did hate you… for a long time after New York. I hated thinking about you. I hated when Weiss called me, because I knew had just finished talking to you, or seeing you. You represent a lot of pain in my life, Sydney."  
  
She sobbed softly, nodding (apologizing).  
  
"I had no idea what to do, Syd. The woman I loved was the same woman who broke my heart. What do you do when that happens?"   
  
"I'm tempted to say start over," she hiccupped, laughing at herself. "But that's just me talking backwards. God, I'm pitiful. I must look absolutely terrible." She was crying uncontrollably by then. "I shouldn't have come here, I should have just stayed at home and watched TV or something… " She continued to babbled, and he continued to watch her.  
  
"Syd… Sydney. Stop. Stop talking." She sniffled loudly and turned to leave.  
  
He chuckled softly before reaching out for her. "Where do you think you're going? We're far from done here."  
  
"I thought it'd be best if I go…" she replied shyly, looking down at her feet. "I'm not exactly in my best state of mind right now."  
  
He took her hand and began walking back to his place. "Let's get you cleaned up, then we'll see where we go from there."  
  
She nodded and let him lead her.   
  
He felt complete for the first time in a long time. Pain or no pain. He wasn't about to let walk away just yet. 


	9. Desire

Title: Desire  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? … (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
***RATING CHANGE!!! This is definitely NOT just a PG-13 chapter. It's sexually intense, nothing graphic, but more than enough innuendoes to keep you guessing (or let your imaginations run totally wild!) I'm tempted to say R, but we'll say R-ish. I give you fair warning!  
  
A/N: Long overdue. This picks up where the last left off. If you don't read this due to the Rating change, the next chapter will still be understood. I don't plan on screwing you over if you don't read this one. The next chapter should be along shortly. Not as long a wait as this one, but it could be tight. School starts next week, and my driving courses are taking up a lot of time! Lol Enjoy, kidlets….  
  
  
  
  
  
He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, bringing her into his home when she was so vulnerable, and he was feeling incredibly unsatisfied. He desired her more than ever, plain and simple.  
  
The sound of the water hitting the shower door had driven him insane (in the most sensuous way) as he had laid out clothes for her. So he had retired to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, willing his affection to stand down (seeing as how it had undoubtedly rose to the occasion), while the woman he had lusted after (loved) for years was taking a shower in his bathroom.  
  
He was completely lost in thought (baseball, washing dishes, old Aunt Sandra) when she had appeared before him, decked out in the long t-shirt and shorts, wet hair clinging to her (his desire for her hitting the roof and bouncing around uncontrollably).  
  
He swallowed loudly (visibly), causing her to blush. He smiled to himself and shook his head.  
  
"Uh, you look… better."   
  
She laughed quietly. "Yeah. The shower did me well." Her hand flew to cover her mouth, as her eyes grew wide at the words that came out of it.   
  
He shook his head to clear it then reached out for the pot of coffee. "You want some of this? …I mean, do you want some coffee?"  
  
She giggled outright before nodding her head. It was his turn to blush.  
  
//Is it just me, or are we just spitting out innuendoes?//  
  
After the coffee had been poured, he led her into the living room. He sat down on the sofa, sighing softly and looked up at her. Her eyes were roaming around the room uncomfortably.   
  
"Sydney," he said. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with… fear. His heart softened as he motioned for her to sit, offering the seat next to him on the sofa. She smiled gratefully at him before sitting down, tucking her legs beneath her.   
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each just trying to enjoy the somewhat normal feeling they were overcome with.  
  
But finally, the silence began to press hard on Michael's nerves, making him fidgety. "We need to talk, Syd," he told her as he turned his head in her direction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she studied her cup of coffee intently.   
  
"I guess I owe it to you to let you start," she sighed.   
  
He nodded. "Ok, then." He sighed and leaned back, not wasting any time. "Since you left, I've felt lonely. I found myself longing for you. At first I blamed myself. I thought I should have done something differently. Then you might have stayed."  
  
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, placing his coffee on the table in front of him. "Then I was overcome with this rage. There's something you really need to understand, Syd. The reason why I was so unbelievably mad was because I had just spent the best week of my life with the most incredibly woman I had ever met. I was in love with you, Syd. I woke up every morning believing that I'd be able to wake up next to you when we got back home and be able to tell you that after you woke up."  
  
He got up and walked to the window across the room. "But you took that away from me." He stopped for a while, fighting the urge to scream and kick and to vent his frustrations. But he thought better of it. He looked at her, his eyes boring into hers. "Don't you get it, Syd? I was finally ready to have that life you always wanted from me. I finally got the nerve to tell you how I felt; that I loved you… But it's like it didn't even matter to you. You just used me up and left me."  
  
He didn't know how, but suddenly she was standing in front of him, caressing his face and kissing away tears he didn't even know he had shed.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, pressing her lips to his tentatively before pulling away. "It wasn't supposed to be this way." Again she pressed her lips to his, lingering this time.  
  
He fought against returning the kiss, he really did, but his restraint disappeared completely when he felt her tongue glide gently across his bottom lip. He moaned loudly, leaving his mouth open for her to ravish his own tongue. He kissed her back zealously and felt himself become light-headed. He was lost after that. All he could think (smell, hear, feel) was Sydney. And that was all he wanted.  
  
He could feel every inch of her covering his body. He was thoroughly aware of everything his skin came in contact with (his hard-on pressing urgently against her stomach, her fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, the wall he suddenly had her pressed up on).  
  
On the contrary, he was only vaguely aware of the little voice in his head that yelled at him to stop what he was doing, instructed him that it was too soon. But the situation was too far-gone that there was no way he could deny himself this release. There was no way that he could deny HER.  
  
She pulled away from him, whispering, "We can't do this here." He nodded, agreeing with her.  
  
"You're absolutely right," he replied. He picked her up roughly, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He walked briskly across the room and down the hall into his bedroom where he stopped at the foot of the bed. Kissing her neck, she slid gracefully (painfully) to the floor. She moaned deeply when she felt how much he wanted her.  
  
Before long, there was no clothing between them, each letting their hands explore the other. All inhibitions were lost as they slipped into the same state of minds they had adopted in New York (he slipped into her). There was no doubt in either of their minds that this felt right at that moment, no matter how wrong it would seem the morning after.  
  
They didn't let thoughts of tomorrow haunt them as they made love that night (over and over). Instead, they held onto the night, fighting sleep as the sunshine began to pour through the bedroom window.  
  
He watched the morning rays caress her face, relishing in how beautiful she was, tucked into him. He knew how well they fit together (he had felt it all to well the entire night).  
  
But he also knew that their problems were not solved in the least. His desire for her was ragingly obvious, and he was tempted to kiss her awake to show her just how much… But he knew the complications it would bring. Complications were not something he wanted at that point and time.  
  
But she was beautiful, and he was in love, so he couldn't help but drop a sweet kiss to her lips, surprised at the prompt response he received.  
  
"Good morning," she said to him as he pulled away.  
  
"Hey," he replied quietly, looking straight into her eyes. Her eyes clearly showed the warmth and love she felt; there was no denying what she felt for him. But he knew they still had a lot to solve.  
  
"Sydney, about last night…" she immediately recoiled, expecting the worst. "No, no… I'm not gonna say I regretted it, because I don't. But there's still a ton of things we need to work out, Syd. I just need to know, right now, that you'll stick around so we can solve them."  
  
She straddled him then, sitting neatly on his thighs. He saw the desire boil up in her eyes, and he suddenly became aware if the possibility that her eyes were reflecting his own.  
  
"I don't plan on going anywhere this time."  
  
He couldn't even venture an answer. Her lips covered his before he could utter a word. 


	10. Love and Hate

Title: Love and Hate  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: It's very short, and long overdue! I'm sorry! I had it down on paper and I didn't get a chance to get it all together till now. It's 2:40 AM lol School's started. GAH. And it just occurred to me that the new season will be starting soon as well. I want to have this DONE by the season premier so we're looking at. maybe 4 more chapters at the very least. Anyhoo, this chapter's a simple filler. The good stuff's coming. lol  
  
  
  
He woke up to find her tucked neatly underneath his chin, her hand splayed across his chest above his heart. He couldn't help but smile. He felt extremely safe and utterly content. There wasn't anything in the world that could make that moment any more perfect.  
  
A shrill ringing jolted him out of his reverie.  
  
//But there sure as hell are things that can ruin it.//  
  
He reluctantly reached out to his bedside table, feeling around for his cell phone.  
  
"Vaughn," he replied professionally (and hopefully quiet enough not to wake the woman next to him).  
  
"We have a meeting at HQ that you need to attend in an hour," a voice replied before hanging up.  
  
"Could this day get any worse?" he whined to himself, only to be answered by soft, stifled giggle.  
  
He smiled involuntarily. "How long have you been up?" he asked as he settled back against the pillows.  
  
She propped herself up on an elbow. "A while now. Your heartbeat's calming." She blushed at her revelation, and then quickly changed the subject. "Do you have to go in to work?"  
  
"Yes," he replied shortly. It dawned on him that his position at Inter-Op was high placed, and they wouldn't call him in (on a weekend, no less) unless it was absolutely important.  
  
He gasped silently.  
  
//Suicide missions.//  
  
Sydney felt his sharp intake of breath, and there was no mistaking the flash of emotions she saw flicker across his face.  
  
"What is it?" she asked fearfully. "What's the matter?"  
  
"They'd only call me in on a day of for 2 reasons. Information for a possible take down of SD-6, or."  
  
"Or what, Vaughn?" she pressed sternly.  
  
"Or." he sighed, dragging his hand over his face tiredly, "or they've lined me up for another suicide mission."  
  
"What?" she cried incredulously, a bewildered amusement evident in the tone of her voice. "I thought Weiss was joking about that!"  
  
He bristled at her comment. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't think I could handle it?" Angrily he pushed away from her and rose to find some clean clothes.  
  
"I'm different from what I used to be Sydney. I'm not the same man from 5 years ago," he said as he stalked towards his bathroom door, his clothes clutched mercilessly to his chest. He paused momentarily and made the mistake of looking back at her. She still had that look of disbelief on her face (granted it was probably more in reaction to his outburst). He felt his anger boil up steadily. He turned abruptly and slammed the door.  
  
"Va - Vaughn! Now wait a second! Open the door!" she yelled, pounding on the door. "That isn't. I didn't say you couldn't handle anything!"  
  
He sighed, turning on the shower full blast to drown out her yelling.  
  
//I didn't think it was possible to hate the person you're in love with.//  
  
He sighed dejectedly all through his shower, stresses as he dried himself off and pulled on his clothes, and cringed as his hand found the doorknob.  
  
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly before pushing it open and braced himself for the verbal onslaught that he expected to come lashing out at him.  
  
When he was met with silence, his eyes snapped open to survey the room: Completely empty and tidied up.  
  
He paused by his dresser to retrieve a pair of socks before venturing out into the hallway. His ears picked up noise in the kitchen and he headed in that direction cautiously. When he reached the doorway, he was met with the sight of Sydney puttering around his kitchen.  
  
He felt strangely domesticated. Seeing her there made her think of those perfect families. He half expected to see children run by him.  
  
//Perfect little house with the white picket fence and 2.4 children.//  
  
He made himself known to her by clearing his throat and pulling out a stool by the counter.  
  
"I thought I'd make you coffee. I remember where everything was from when I watched you last night." she rambled, placing a steaming travel cup in front of him. "And I know we sorta missed breakfast so I figured you'd want to eat something." she continued as she set a bran muffin by his coffee.  
  
Silence ensued for all of 10 seconds before she blurted out, "I'm sorry." He just sighed.  
  
Do you see what I mean when I say we have problems to work out?" She nodded quietly, her head lowering to her chest. He gathered up his late breakfast, collected his car keys and turned around to face her again.  
  
"There's a spare key behind the biggest picture frame on the mantle," he said, motioning towards the living room. "Lock up when you leave."  
  
She nodded again, wringing her hands.  
  
He sighed (a popular action that morning) then made his way to her. She looked up when he stopped in front of her, slightly confused. He took the opportunity to drop a soft kiss on her lips.  
  
"I'll call you here as soon as my meeting's over." He kissed her again before he turned and left the house. 


	11. We All Fall Down

Title: We All Fall Down  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: Some people have been looking forward to this. It's a little of both worlds (the two extremes for possible mission objectives that I mentioned last chapter). I killed two birds with one stone, Ma! Anyway, hope you like. I'm sure most people who read this can foresee the end of the fic, because I can too. lol It will be a good ending (I hope) only 3 or 4 more left to go, depending on how often I update, and how much I have to say. Either way, the end will most probably be posted the Friday before the Alias season premiere, so that leaves roughly 3 weeks?? Whatever. Go read. This note just gets longer and longer.  
  
PS: FF.net massacres my three little dots that indicate run-off thoughts. lol I never really noticed though. So if it doesn't make sense, feel free to email me for a chapter review. lmao  
  
  
  
He sat there disbelievingly as his mission specs were placed in front of him for confirmation. "You want me to WHAT?"  
  
Brian McGrady, his handler, sighed indignantly. "Why are you so fussy now? This mission is relatively easy to most of the stunts you've pulled in the last 2 years. It isn't even a suicide mission! It's just. they needed your expertise." Brian sighed, placing a hand on Vaughn's shoulder. "The higher ups think you needed a break. Infiltration was the closest we could get you to a vacation without retiring you from active duty."  
  
He wasn't ready for retirement, he knew. But Infiltration? Of SD-6?  
  
//Unbelievable. There had to have been times that I've been spotted with either Sydney or Jack.//  
  
"What about surveillance? Security Section? They HAVE to have seen me at one point or another. We aren't that good, you know." Defiant as he was, he knew that Inter-Op WAS that good.  
  
"Who do you think we are. amateurs? Come on, Mikey. Focus. Everything's been taken care of. The story is that Jack was considering you for recruitment for a while now. If they bring up you being spotted with Sydney, it'll be because Jack wanted you to get comfortable with her in the off chance that it was you chosen for the job."  
  
Michael took a deep breath and took a closer look at his mission specs. After a few tense moments of studying, he spoke.  
  
"So I'm to go in as a new recruit?"  
  
"Yes," Brian answered, studying his nails impatiently.  
  
"They're starting me in the actual Bank area then?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Jack Bristow okay-ed this?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"You're a walking dickhead?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
Mike smiled. "Thought so."  
  
Brian's head snapped up. "Dickhead?"  
  
Michael's eyes widened. "I'll do it!" he exclaimed, changing subjects. Brian nodded knowingly.  
  
"I knew you would. This is your first long-term undercover op, Mikey. You'll get to have a name, a background, a home.a girlfriend maybe?"  
  
Michael blinked several times, Sydney on his mind. "We'll see about that."  
  
A couple hours later, Mike was officially Michael Lewis ("You can keep Michael. It's common enough to be unsuspicious."), a man who had previously studied accounting, business law and psychology, before taking off for 3 years to tour Europe ("to soak in the atmosphere and just to escape life. how's that for creative?").  
  
Michael Lewis was made to speak French, Spanish, Italian and Russian; only the first 3 of the aforementioned languages he spoke fluently. Michael Lewis, although tall, never gave in to the tall-people-must-play-basketball theory, and turned instead to the likes of soccer and rugby.  
  
The list went on into more detail about his lack of family (adopted by a then 50 year old woman named Luciana Giancarlo after his parents died in a boat accident when he was 3), how his adoptive mother died only months before, and how he was now looking for a job to escape the loneliness closing in around him.  
  
//Pretty good. Sounds real.//  
  
It SHOULD have sounded real. Everything (aside from the part about his family) was true, down to the minor details.  
  
Satisfied, he glanced at his watch. He noted he had enough time to place 2 calls: One to Jack, and then one to Sydney.  
  
"Can I go now, Brian?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. You can go. Go ahead and call Jack Bristow. He's gonna be needing to talk to you as soon as possible so y'all can figure out the mission details." Mike nodded, his hand on the doorknob. "I hope you know, Michael, that if this infiltration is successful, we'll be able to take down SD-6 before this time next year. This is for real. Now skid-addle! I have work to do."  
  
Michael wasted no time in doing what he was told, and quickly exited the room and went to his own office. He dialed up Jack on a secure line and waited patiently.  
  
"Bristow," he answered gruffly.  
  
Michael, being the great agent he was, immediately slipped into character. "Mr. Bristow? It's me, Michael Lewis. I.uh, I was just calling to tell you that I just faxed over my résumé to that number you gave me last time we met."  
  
Jack grunted in approval, playing along. "Very good Michael. I've talked you up here at the Bank and I'm pleased to tell you that you're very high up in the running for the new job opening, temporary as it may be."  
  
"May I ask the nature of the position?" He was curious to know exactly whom he was replacing.  
  
"One of our best, a Mr. Dixon, will be leaving us for 6 months to a year. He. He was injured in a shoot out at one of our out-of-country branches. Although he is expected to recover fully, we don't want him to feel like he needs to come back before he's ready."  
  
"I see," Michael said. "Will I have to go out of the country often? I lived in Europe for 3 years if that ups my chances any." Jack laughed a stiff yet surprisingly real laugh. "That is a BIG plus. I assume you speak an array of languages?"  
  
"I guess you could say that, sir," he replied modestly. "I speak fluently in French, Spanish and Italian, which proved to be incredibly useful during my stay there."  
  
"Any other languages I should know about? The more the. uh, merrier, I guess you could say."  
  
Michael laughed. "Well, I know basic Russian."  
  
"Russian? Well, that's interesting."  
  
The two continued their small talk, each knowing to play up their roles as they both had the knowledge that their conversation was being monitored.  
  
"Well, Mr. Lewis -"  
  
"Please, call me Michael. You don't have a problem calling me that when we're talking face to face, sir."  
  
"-Uh, Michael. I'll call you back as soon as I've discussed this with my boss. I can't promise you anything, but you are definitely one of the more qualified people for this job. Mr. Sloane only wants the best for his company."  
  
"Uh sir, I know this may sound forward of me, but. who'll be orienting me if I, by chance, get this job? Do I have to be worried?" Jack understood instantly.  
  
"Actually, Michael, it will most likely be my daughter, Sydney. Remember? You've met her a couple times. Marcus Dixon was her travel partner. I think she'll be excited to know of the recent turn of events." Michael took that as his hint that it was ok for him to tell Sydney.  
  
"Excellent, sir. When can I expect your call?"  
  
"Give me a couple of days. I should know by then."  
  
A few minutes later, the two said their goodbyes.  
  
Craving a cup of coffee, Michael left his office, only to bump into Sara Stevens in front of his door. "Sara?"  
  
"Hi," she replied laughing, rubbing her arm nervously.  
  
"Is there. uh, something you needed?"  
  
She nodded looking around nervously. "Matt won't be in for a couple days, a week at the most. He sent me here in the hopes that you would lend him a bunch of movies to keep him occupied."  
  
Michael laughed. That was just like Matt. But he was overcome with a sense of security.  
  
//Something isn't right with this.//  
  
"Uh. Sure, sure. You want me to bring them over?"  
  
Sara winced lightly. "See, I totally wouldn't mind that, but Matt insisted I go on over to your place to pick them up."  
  
He sensed her discomfort around him, and immediately apologized. "About last night Sara. I . I wanted to thank you. You forced me to make that decision about Sydney. We talked, things probably aren't nearly resolved, but it's a start. So thank you."  
  
She nodded, softly answering, "I'm glad I could help."  
  
"We could head back now, if you want. I'm done for the day."  
  
She nodded and they both made their way down to the elevator. 4 floors later, they exited and went to find their respective cars.  
  
They both set out, intending on meeting at his place.  
  
He was so preoccupied with so many other things (How did Matt know I was coming in today? How did Sara get in the building?) that he never even thought about what Sydney would think about him bringing home another girl.  
  
The same girl that could have easily been her competition where he, Michael Vaughn (Lewis?) was the grand prize. 


	12. We're Never Gonna Be Ok

Title: We're Never Gonna Be Ok  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to.. but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: Ooo! This chapter is READY BABY! lol Fun to write and I'm excited to post.  
  
Umm, in regards to the last chapter.. I noticed a whole lot of mistakes, but I was too lazy to upload a revised version. Sorry! lol I hope I did a better job this time around!  
  
And one last thing! I'm sitting pretty at 45 Reviews! Please make me a happy camper and get me to 100 before the end of this series! Lol Yeah, I know.. Wishful thinking. How about small goals?? Get me to 50! LMAO But seriously, thanks for all the reviews you've sent in so far! They were lovely and greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!  
  
  
  
His mind was completely occupied as he unlocked his front door, Sara trailing closely behind him. He didn't say a word to her as he crossed his living room floor to his shelf, where all his movies were housed.  
  
"Anything in particular he wants?" he asked offhandedly, trying to rope her in and trap her.  
  
"Umm.. He said you'd know exactly what to give me."  
  
//Slick. Nice lie.//  
  
"Yeah, he probably wants his favorites then." He plucked his James Bond Collection off the top shelf and handed it to Sara. "A little inter-office irony," he added wryly.  
  
She giggled good-naturedly and took the box from his hand. "Thanks a lot, Mike."  
  
"No problem. But.. can I ask you one question before you go? How the hell did you get into Inter-Op and why were you standing outside my office?" She stood silent and open-mouthed.  
  
"You're not a lawyer, are you Sara?" he asked, though it came out more of a statement than a question.  
  
She shook her head defiantly and readied herself to protest, but Michael just held up his hand. "You better make sure what comes out of your mouth isn't a lie."  
  
Her eyes widened, then she sighed and took a deep breath. "My name really is Sara Stevens. No, I'm not a lawyer. The reason I had clearance at Inter- Op is because I'm looking to take over your director's spot."  
  
"George? George Blackwell?" he cried incredulously. "What the hell has he done wrong?"  
  
She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing really. I'm just gonna make things better."  
  
Michael just laughed bitterly at her naïveté. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," he muttered, turning away from her.  
  
She ignored him. "I have clearance because they're looking into my file and reading up on my credentials. They're far enough along to have given me access to the File and Records room. That's why I know some of the things I know."  
  
Michael shook his head in disbelief and disgust. "So you read classified files to get the goods on the Agency? On me? That's low Sara. What'd you do, beg Matt to set you up with me?"  
  
"This place.. My God! Don't' you think that it could be more efficient? I mean, you guys are good and all, but take a look around, Mike! You guys are all so damn attached to each other that you call each other by first names! Whenever there's a death on a mission, you guys actually mourn when you should be pulling off some hell of a lot more important missions! It's your job, for Christ's sake! Do it!"  
  
"Did you ever wonder why we were so good in the first place?" He fumed. "It's because we work well together! The fact that we're so close gives us an advantage! And of course we mourn when there's a death! We just lost a freakin' family member! We're not robots, Sara! We're fuckin' human!"  
  
"You see that!" she yelled at him. "You're BENEATH me and you're disrespecting the hell out of me! When I'm new director -"  
  
"If," but she continued on as if he hadn't interrupted her.  
  
"This attitude WILL disappear."  
  
"And how do you propose you do that, huh?"  
  
"With attitude refinements. It's amazing what drugs can do these days."  
  
Michael shook his head, laughing at her. "That's illegal, and you know it. You can't use drugs to superficially re-write someone's sub-routines! Especially within a U.S. government agency! As soon as word got around, you'd be booted out of here before you can say 'Michael knows best.' 'Cause I do, you know."  
  
It was her turn to laugh (condescendingly). "Who'd believe you over me? You have no proof!"  
  
Michael was silent for a while, a sinister smirk playing across his face.  
  
"Sara, Sara, Sara," he finally spoke. "How do you think Inter-Op keeps tabs on their Agents when they're off duty? Magic?" He chucked. "Or maybe home video and audio surveillance?"  
  
Sara's face drained of color.  
  
"You have NO chance of taking over George's job. None. He's been good for us, and Inter-Op hasn't been this successful in years. They wouldn't close the book on him, no questions asked, just because you said he isn't good enough. That, coupled with the information that they now have because of your big mouth, is reason enough to never even CONSIDER having you replace George." He grinned maliciously. "Should you be saying 'Michael knows best' right about now?"  
  
She backed up from him, shaking her head slowly, a smug yet tense look on her face. "You're good, Mike. And I don't doubt that you're good at other things as well." she implied, giving him a blatant once over. "We could have been good together, you and me. Are you sure you'd rather bang that Sydney kid?"  
  
He raised his eyebrow.  
  
//She's running scared now..//  
  
Running his hands over his face and through his hair, he focused on her again. "I'm absolutely certain. You couldn't even measure up to half of the woman she is, let alone lover."  
  
Her eyes threw daggers at him before she turned and stalked out of the room. He listened as she slammed his front door and drove off in her car, tires squealing.  
  
He stood there, facing the window, replaying the events carefully, and shook his head disappointedly. He had prided himself in being observant, yet had underestimated Sara in a major way.  
  
He was so lost in thought, he never even heard his front door re-open, and he certainly didn't sense the presence of a person standing behind him.  
  
Sydney took in his disheveled appearance, and remembered the harried woman who had left his house in a whirlwind.  
  
She cleared her throat, causing Michael to spin around to face her. She stood there, the epitome of a calm person, yet her eyes were fiery.  
  
She leaned against the doorframe and began to whirl a key ring (Mike's spare key attached to it) around her index finger.  
  
"Care to explain?" she asked lazily, but he could feel the edge in her voice cut into him.  
  
He just sighed and closed his eyes.  
  
//We're never gonna be ok.// 


	13. Proof

Title: Proof  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to.. but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: My little series is coming to a close.. So the countdown begins!! lol to both the Alias Season 2 Premiere AND the end to my escape from storylines. I'm sorta sad to see the end of this, but excited to be tuned in to my TV every Sunday night. lol  
  
Anyhoo, you're looking at maybe 3 more chapters.. 4, if I feel like it. As a parting gift, help me to 100 reviews. lmao To those of you who helped get me to 50+, thanx so much! Here it is, Chapter 13. Hope you enjoy!  
  
  
  
"Answer the question, Vaughn."  
  
He sighed, defeated. "You wouldn't believe if me if my life depended on it."  
  
She nodded, agreeing. "I think you're right." She tossed him the spare key and turned to leave. "My father called me earlier. CIA's got some secret truck thing coming to pick you and a bunch of your things up. They've just about finished writing up your papers and all that jazz." She turned and gave him one last look. "I'll be in touch, Mr. Lewis."  
  
Before he could say a word, she was gone.  
  
//The nerve of that girl!//  
  
He had every right to be angry with her. Yes, it had looked bad. Yes, she must feel like shit. But she hadn't given him a chance to even explain himself.  
  
//This is NOT a good day.//  
  
In an hour, he was ready to go.. From one C.I.A. location, to the next. As he was leaving, someone was coming in. The "real" Michael Vaughn. Someone sent in to play him, just in case someone got a little too curious. He nodded to him, and then climbed into the truck.  
  
His new apartment was wonderful, fully furnished and very modern looking. He spent a few minutes personalizing his new home, then set to work to prepare some dinner. He found some chicken breast in the freezer, and then decided on making Chicken Alfredo. As he set about his kitchen hunting down the rest of the ingredients and necessities, his phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Mike?" Sydney's voice asked. "Hey, it's me! I was wondering if you wanted company for dinner tonight! I could fill you in and give you some pointers.. It IS your first day tomorrow.." She chuckled for effect.  
  
"Umm, yeah. That's doable. I'm almost done cooking. You can head over now, if you like." He was nervous, but he hoped she didn't notice.  
  
"I'll be ready to leave in an hour," she laughed. "I just left the office and I want to unwind a bit before I come over. I'll see you soon, Mike!" she said, before hanging up the phone. He did the same, sighing deeply as he did.  
  
He had done nothing wrong, he was sure of that. But how would he prove that to Sydney?  
  
//The surveillance tapes.//  
  
He used his Inter-Op issued cell phone to call the office. "Brad, it's Mike. Do me a favor? Yeah, send a copy of surveillance tapes from my house to Sydney Bristow. Make sure she gets it, ok? She's leaving soon, so get it over there A.S.A.P. Make sure you give it to her directly, ok?"  
  
******  
  
3 hours later, he was alone, nursing a vodka on the rocks. She hadn't called. She hadn't shown up.. He was at a loss. He could hear the rain pouring outside. For some reason, he couldn't remember when it had started.  
  
He got up to pour himself another drink and, on the way, stopped to turn on the radio to drown out the depressing rainfall. Soft music poured out through the speakers, washing over him.  
  
//Norah Jones. Not exactly my choice of music, but..//  
  
His thoughts were broken by a knock at the door. His heart sped up, knowing who it would be.  
  
He wobbled over to the door, and unlocked it.. but he didn't open the door. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Sydney had to say. If she would accuse him of lying.. If..  
  
Slowly the door opened, revealing a dripping wet Sydney Bristow.  
  
"Mike? I'm sorry I didn't call.. I got caught up and I -" She spied the empty glass in his left hand, then the bottle of Smirnoff's resting on the coffee table. Her eyes darkened.  
  
"Can I come in and uh.. Speak my mind?"  
  
He blinked his eyes and tried to clear the fog a bit.  
  
"Huh? Yeah, sure. It's clean. Your father checked before I got here, and I checked when I moved my things in." He stumbled away from her and made his way back to the couch, reaching out for the vodka bottle again.  
  
She slammed the door, startling him into dropping his glass. They watched as it clattered around beside the bottle, before her (ominous) voice broke the silence.  
  
"Reach for that bottle again and I will make certain that your arms are.. Immobilized." His hand, which had been sneaking over to the bottle while she was talking, retreated quickly with her blatant threat.  
  
She walked away and to the bathroom, where she disappeared for a few minutes. He was tempted to take a swig from the bottle, but he was almost certain that she'd walk out and catch him.  
  
When she finally came out again, she was dressed in jogging pants and a sweater; her hair somewhat drier and pulled up into a messy bun.  
  
She settled next to him on the couch, watching him try to avoid her eyes.  
  
After sitting there for ages, she finally spoke: "I can't tell you how sorry I am."  
  
He nodded his head, then sighed disbelievingly. "You seem to have said that so many times these past few months."  
  
"I deserve that," she answered. "But it doesn't change the fact that that's how I feel. I always seem to screw things up." She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. They both stared at their hands, just hanging on to each other. But Sydney needed to explain, and he let her.  
  
"I really am sorry, Mike. I can't really explain why I act the way I do. It just happens. Just the thought of you with someone else.. It killed me. It never even crossed my minds that you wouldn't let that happen. I know you love me, Mike. It's just been so long since anyone had."  
  
He turned to her slowly, a sudden clarity shining through his drunken stupor. "I do love you. But shit, I can only take so much. I want to be with you. But things just never seem to work out for us. What if it's a sign? What if we're not supposed to be together?"  
  
She was shaking her head defiantly. "No, our lives wouldn't have been so intertwined if we weren't supposed to be together. If there's one thing I'm sure of, that's it."  
  
"Then you got to trust me when I say that I love you."  
  
"I do.. But my mind just takes what it sees and runs. I trust you. But there are people like Sara I don't trust."  
  
His skin paled a bit at the mention of Sara. "I took care of it," Sydney assured him. "I put a call in to George and they reviewed the tapes. Sara won't be cultivating a job with American Intelligence anytime soon."  
  
"But she knows so much now.." he trailed off.  
  
Sydney smiled tightly. "George thought they'd give her a taste of her own medicine. She's scheduled for some drug-induced memory erasing first thing tomorrow morning."  
  
"So she's in custody now?"  
  
"Yeah." He exhaled.  
  
"And Matt? Was he in on it?"  
  
She answered him with difficulty. "Yeah, he was. But not in the way you think. She had supposedly been through a tough and messy break-up. She had requested to be set up with a 'good guy' for a change. You were the only good guy he could think of." He nodded at her to continue. "Well, Matt's on probation for 3 months, for sharing secret information with an outsider."  
  
"Good," he mumbled bitterly.  
  
"Did you eat?" she asked him a few minutes later. He nodded.  
  
"I wasn't sure if you'd come, but I left you some anyway." She pushed him back against the sofa, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Get some rest."  
  
And he did.  
  
******  
  
He woke up an hour later with an urge to throw up. Jumping up, he ran to the bathroom and let the contents of his stomach empty into the toilet. In an instant, Sydney was at his side, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.  
  
He dry heaved for a little while, before slumping tiredly against the cold porcelain.  
  
"Let's get you to bed," he heard her say through his haze. She helped him up off the floor and led him into his bedroom. She undressed him, then tucked him into bed.  
  
At various times throughout the night, he woke up to her singing to him, caressing his face and massaging his head.  
  
The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was her whispering, "I love you, Michael," and him thinking that things were finally looking up.  
  
Finally.  
  
And it only took just under 6 years. 


	14. Finally

Title: Finally  
  
Author: ReeCee  
  
Feedback: If you'd like to give it, then I'd love to get it. lol No pressure.  
  
E-mail: dangerous_angel@2die4.com  
  
Distribution: Here! lol I'm not sure if my stuff is really up to par with everyone else's so I have no idea WHY you'd want to. . . but if you do. Thanks! Just email me and tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to? . . . (sigh) NOT MINE. Capiche? Besides, JJ Abrams is God to my Alias world.  
  
A/N: I can't believe I actually had another chapter that I forgot to post. If there's anyone who's still interested in this story, then by all means. Read this chapter! Hope you like. I don't really know why I want to post it. It ended really well in Chapter 13.. But there were loose ties sooooooooo.. Here it is!!! Enjoy lol  
  
  
  
  
  
He sat across from Sydney, watching her as she wrote up a report of their last mission. They were partners in crime now (so to speak) and were approaching their sixth month as partners. He hadn't realized he was still staring until she pointed it out.  
  
"You were spaced out for a while there, Mike." She laughed, her smile lighting up her face. "I've been calling your name! Is there something on my face?"  
  
The corners of his lips raised in a soft smile before shook his head and looked down, pretending to work. She giggled softly, and continued to work.  
  
She began to hum softly as she wrote, and he was transported back into a time when she sang that exact song to him. Granted, he was basically passed out, he remembered the night clearly. How she had taken care of him, truly loved him.  
  
She proved herself to him time and time again, getting him through work, and then being very understanding when he disappeared for 2 months for SD-6 training.  
  
Both acted quite surprised and happy (acting, mind you) when Sloane broke the news of their new partnership. They laughed at the irony of it all, then left early for lunch.  
  
And now, sitting across from her, he knew that his gaze was radiating love, and that she could feel its warmth. He confirmed his knowledge as he watched a deep pink blush rise from her neck up to her cheeks. He chuckled out loud, his smile matching hers.  
  
"Hey Syd.."  
  
She looked up at him questioningly. "Yeah?"  
  
"Let's go to lunch. I know a great coffee place.." Her smile brightened, jumping up almost immediately and running into Sloane's office. A few moments later, she exited with her boss at her side, him smiling as he shoved her out the door. "Go on, you two love birds. Get out of here. See you both tomorrow."  
  
He was grinning proudly, to the capacity of a father, as Sydney walked away from him and took Mike's hand. It took all of Mike's training and acting skills to not lose the contents of his stomach all over the clean floor.  
  
As they walked hand in hand towards the elevator, Mike leaned down to her and brushed his lips over her ears. "I'm surprised he likes us together."  
  
"So am I.. Maybe it's his way of making it up to me. You know, giving me a life." She leaned closer to him as the elevator doors closed behind them. "Frankly, I don't care. I have you, don't I?"  
  
Michael laughed. "That you do, Ms. Bristow. That you do."  
  
"I'm glad, Mr. Lewis. I really am." He flinched slightly at his name, considering it wasn't really his. But she didn't seem to notice.  
  
She tugged him along out into the street, walking briskly in the autumn weather towards his car. As he fumbled around for his keys, her cell phone rang shrilly.  
  
"Hello?.. Hi Dad. Of course I'm fine!.." She paused for awhile, listening intently. "We're going out to lunch right now. The old café we used to go to. Ok? See you in ten."  
  
Michael, who by then was holding the car door open for her, looked at her questioningly.  
  
Sydney just shook her head slightly. "He has something important to tell us."  
  
//Important.//  
  
He vaguely remembered Jack Bristow briefing the both of them one night, months ago. "The only time I will ever call you on an insecure line will be to deliver news. Namely, the take-down of SD-6."  
  
"Which line was that, Sydney?"  
  
She looked up at him, mirroring his look of hope and confusion. "The SD-6 line. He talked vaguely. Offered no names, and neither did I."  
  
Michael nodded, and then carefully closed the passenger seat door when she was safely seated. He quickly made his way over to the driver's side, opened the door and slid in.  
  
They made it to the café in record time, but still arrived after Jack, his car parked on the opposite side of the street. They waved to him through the window, and he nodded, acknowledging them.  
  
Once inside, they found his booth, only to find that each of their regulars were already placed on the table waiting for them.  
  
"Sit," Jack ordered softly, motioning to the empty bench. Sydney sat, followed by Mike. Her eyes raked over his face, noticing a difference but not quite able to pinpoint it.  
  
"What's happened, Dad?" Jack Bristow cautiously surveyed his daughter and her boyfriend/partner. He needed to be careful with how he said this, approached it.  
  
"I needed to tell you something. I don't like pretenses, so I'm just gonna jump right into it." He took a nice, long, deep breath. "The CIA is now in possession of intel that is detrimental to SD-6. The scheduled take-down is to commence in.." he checked his watch, and then quickly looked back to the two people facing him. "15 minutes. Congratulations, you two. You've done it. SD-6 is soon-to-be non-existent."  
  
Sydney let out a little whoop, throwing her arms around a very startled Mike.  
  
"Hey Vaughn?" He looked up at her instantaneously at the mention of his old name.  
  
"Take me home."  
  
There was no way he'd deny her that. 


End file.
